


Suspension

by Megane



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternative Night Clubs, Clubbing, Comedy, Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Partial Nudity, Ratings Will Absolutely Change, Rope Bondage, Social Media, Swordplay, Tags Will Absolutely Change, Training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: Life in Red Grave City is way different than it is in Fortuna. Nero likes that. More than anything, heneedsthat. After years of living among the Order of the Sword, he needs something different. He wants... just... something exciting to happen! After seeing a commercial for a certain nightclub, he realises it just might be the answer he's looking for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't... look at this anymore. It's been almost exactly two weeks. _Two weeks_ and twenty-two pages. I'm sorry if there are any errors, but I've reviewing and reviewing and rewriting. My eyes, my _hands._ Anyway, I've been itching to write something along these lines for far longer than you know. Thank god for DMC5 because V and Nero are perfect for this.
> 
> If you actually read all of this, fucking kudos and trophies to you.

Nero was sitting at the dining table with his boots kicked up on one of the corners. He was idly thumbing through the pages of a magazine he had open across his thighs. Each page had a diverse array of hot amateur models. From what he gathered, this issue’s theme was something along the lines of “post-apocalyptic monster killer”. Maybe not in those _exact_ terms, but he was pretty sure he was close. Whatever it was actually called, it was a theme he had never seen before, but it ended up surprising him. The action style shoots were exciting and more arousing than he expected. More than a couple photos had the models in, ah, compromising positions against their demonic foes. He had those pages dog-eared.

     “What d’ya wanna do today, kiddo?”

Nero jolted at the voice. His muscles clenched tight, and his gut was heavy with the familiar weight of embarrassment. He was about to pull his feet down and slap the magazine closed when he looked over his shoulder, seeing Dante step towards him. It was then that he remembered that he wasn’t with the Order anymore and forced himself to relax. His body slowly uncurled, his muscles loosening their spring.

     Dante chuckled when he was close. His hand clapped on Nero’s right shoulder as he leaned in. “Tryin’ to hide your dirty mag?”

     “It’s not like that,” Nero retorted a bit too quickly, a bit defensively. He hoped Dante didn’t notice any folded corners.

     Dante hummed in playful disbelief as he reached out to flip the magazine to its cover. Upon seeing the title, he let out a long noise of recognition. “Woooow, Teezer? Haven’t seen one of these in awhile.” He let the cover flop back down and rubbed his chin with his now free hand. “Didn’t even know they were still around.”

     “You used to read this?” Nero asked, giving Dante a sidelong look. As soon as he did, he realised it was a redundant question. With the guns and flashy swords and over the top, stylish shoots, this seemed right up Dante’s alley.

     Dante nodded his head. “Hell yeah I did. Bet I still got some old issues if you wanna check ‘em out.”

Nero was conflicted; he felt himself nearly jump at the opportunity, but he had to hold himself back. On one hand, he really wanted to see the older issues. He heard that they were a lot more “experimental” (and that was usually code for “more explicit”), but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anything about Dante’s tastes. He dragged his tongue slowly between his upper row of teeth and lip before staring straight down at the magazine again.

     “I’ll think about it,” he said finally.

     “Great.” Dante straightened up and slapped both hands on Nero’s shoulders, harder than was necessary to keep Nero’s attention and to be a dick. Nero jumped. “Ya didn’t answer my question.”

     “What’re you talking about?” Nero muttered before sinking lower in his chair.

     “I asked what you wanted to do today.”

     “Mmm, I dunno.” Nero flipped to the back of the magazine.

The last four pages were different types of advertisements for the tri-city area. Nero genuinely liked reading this. Red Grave City and its neighbouring zip codes were the polar opposite of Fortuna. He felt like he had lived a somewhat exciting life on the island, but he knew that was nothing compared to what the city had in store for him. Reading through the various advertisements gave him some idea of what he wanted to get into if he ever dared to venture out one crazy night. His eyes caught onto a shapely silhouette dangling a bra. _Red Burlesque. Late night shows every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday._ He quickly read the address and memorised it. He heard a few things about burlesque shows. Maybe he’d check one out someday.

     Dante continued by saying, “I was thinking about going to the gun range or my old training ground. I _think_ they’re open today. You wanna come?”

     Nero’s eyes widened, and he leaned his head back to look up at his uncle. “You serious?”

     Dante scoffed. “Yeah? Why else would I ask?”

     “Because you like dicking me around.”

     "That’s true.” Dante’s hands slid from Nero’s shoulders, and he began walking around the table. “So you down?”

     “Hell yeah I am.” Nero slapped the magazine closed and tossed it onto the table. He jumped up to his feet with enthusiasm, and it made Dante chuckle.

     “Just like a puppy,” he said under his breath.

     “You say somethin’?”

     “Huh?” Dante feigned surprise as he perked his head up and smirked. “Oh nothing. Just talking to myself. Now c’mon before it’s past your bedtime.” He waved a hand towards the front entrance.

     “Oh, ha _ha_ , old man.” Nero rolled his eyes and marched after him. “Don’t have to throw me under the bus. I know you wanna make it back in time to catch your soaps.”

     Dante laughed as he flung open the front door. “I’ll have you know that _Passions_ is a timeless masterpiece.”

     Nero smirked, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t gotta explain yourself to me.”

Dante flashed a smile over his shoulder towards Nero. And even though Nero would never outright admit to it (because it was embarrassing as hell), he always felt emboldened by that smile. It made him think Dante was proud of him for his quick wit. It was a sign that they bounced off each other well, that their quips were even regarded as fun. Dante never said as much himself, but he made Nero _feel_ appreciated. It was different and almost odd from someone that was supposed to be his family. But Nero liked it.

Again, he would _never_ say that. At least not to Dante. He could do without the incessant teasing for the next lifetime.

Instead of saying anything, Nero reached forward and shoved at Dante to get him moving again. “Alright, alright!” Dante said with a laugh in his voice. They exited the townhouse together. As Dante locked the door, Nero stared out towards the horizon. There were so many buildings lining the streets and even more buildings further off than he could see. His lips parted slightly as he let out a soft breath. There was so much of his life that he missed. He could’ve grown up in this place, could’ve explored every back alley and seedy business. He could’ve had a clique he outgrew, a special place he haunted daily. He didn’t have a chance before, but he knew he’d make up for the lost this time around.

     Dante clapped a hand on Nero’s shoulder as he headed down the stairs. “Let’s go.”

     Nero stirred and gave a tilted smile as he followed. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

 

It would probably take a long time before Nero got used to training with Dante. Back on Fortuna, he trained with different members of the Order, and that usually meant, well, order and form and disciple. No movement was wasted; every action was an execution of an age old practice that came long before him. The sword was the embodiment of the user’s will, and so there had to be meaning and focus and yadda yadda yadda.

Fighting Dante was absolutely _nothing_ like that. Unlike the Order, there was only one rule: get back up when you were knocked down. And if you couldn’t get up, _well_ , you just had to come harder next time. It was a rule Nero was determined to follow. After all the strict order and formulaic regimen of Fortuna, he was more than ready to test his mettle. There was no structure when fighting Dante. He was all about one thing: _style_. Even though Dante often played the fool (and often played it well), he was observant; he knew how to fight through all the chaos he caused. Nero liked that. He wanted to be more like that.

Taking a shower after training never felt more rewarding. He groaned softly in relief and was glad he was alone. It was a long while before he stepped out of the shower. When he did, he let out a long sigh of satisfaction. Water streaked down his body in lazy trails. He rubbed his hair and the back of his neck with a baby blue towel, which contrasted nicely with his skin and hair. He swiped his phone up from the bed and checked his messages. Nico, Kyrie, Vergi— his _dad?_

He held his phone at arm’s length and sneered, unsure if he should check the text or not. Vergil was still traveling, still taking his time to “think things over”. Nero felt himself grit his teeth in agitation, and he tossed his phone back onto the bed. When he left the Order, he needed to reevaluate what he wanted out of life and clear his head. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he wanted to see more of the world. Maybe it was selfish, but he felt he would never be honest with himself if he didn’t try to figure out life on his own. Life on Fortuna was chosen for him.

What Vergil was doing was different. He was avoiding his flesh and blood; he was denying his responsibility, once again try to push away the one thing he hastily tried to throw away. Dante said that Vergil was just running away, and Nero wholeheartedly agreed. For as much as the man hated “weakness” (whatever the fuck that meant), he was sure as shit a coward. Nero grit his teeth together in agitation before throwing his phone onto the bed. He tugged his towel over his head and rubbed it aggressively. “Fuck that guy,” he muttered harshly to himself.

He walked blindly for a few steps before he snapped the towel away. He dried off the rest of his body as he crossed the room. Without his music playing, the silence in his room was almost palpable. This did mean, though, that he could easily hear the ambient noise drifting in from the outside. A motorcycle tore down the road. The next door neighbour was bumping some pretty catchy music, and he could even hear laughter and overlapping conversation. Dante, even, was downstairs listening to something. Nero couldn’t even begin to guess what he was watching. Dante’s tastes in shows ranged from obscure to surprisingly mundane. It was a roulette wheel of entertainment.

“Guess I’ll go chill with him afterward,” Nero said to himself. He pulled on his clothes, turned around, and frowned towards his bed. And he’d have to check his messages… later. He didn’t want to deal with that right now. Instead, he turned and headed outside to stand on his balcony. He reached out to hold the railing and took in a deep breath. On the exhale, he stared out towards the horizon. Life in Red Grave was… intense. It was really nice living here, don’t get him wrong, but at the same time, Nero honestly felt like this place was barely holding itself together. There was always some kind of terrible crime or scandal that rocked the city for a while. Everything always returned to normal, but it was a countdown until something else went wrong. Or until the foundations of Red Grave cracked for good.

Nero wasn’t sure what was making this whole town fall apart, but at night, at least, it felt a bit calmer. Everything felt peaceful. New laughter filled the air, and Nero opened his eyes. The door to the tattoo parlor down the way opened, and a group of people spilled out, loudly celebrating their new ink. Nero smirked, moved by their merriment, and then he started to sit down. It didn’t take long for him to find his center. The pulsing music of the neighbour’s party soon faded to the back of his mind. He focused on the steady pattern of his breath until even his own thoughts were reduced to nothing.

The world returned with three sharp knocks at his door. Nero kept his eyes closed, but he rolled his shoulders back and forced his breathing to return to normal. Every breath was a bit more shallow, rising to a regular rhythm instead of the deep slowness meditation demanded. He tilted his head back slightly as he returned to himself.

     “Yeah?”

     The door opened behind him. “Dinner’s ready.”

     Nero snorted. “What toppings did you get?”

     “I slave over a hot stove, and this is the thanks I— yeah, it’s pizza. Got a little bit of everything this time. Dunno what’s on what though. You want a slice?”

     “In a minute. Lemme finish up here.”

     “You got it.”

The door clicked closed shortly after, and Nero continued his grounding process. When he was finished, he blindly stood up and stretched his limbs. He touched his toes before letting out one final, deliberate exhale. He felt worlds better. He headed back into his room and slid his balcony door closed. The music and laughter were muffled but there. With great hesitation, he walked over to his bed and snagged his phone. He wanted to check the time at least. It was 10:47. Wow, it was later than he thought, and that meant he had been out for… over an hour. Eh, not too bad. He had done worse in recent memory.

When he opened his bedroom door, he was greeted by over-the-top, campy music and excited (?) yelling coming from the television downstairs. Nero headed towards the stairs. Instead of walking, he hopped onto the railing and slid down. He jumped down when he was at the bottom and jogged slightly towards the dining table. There were several boxes stacked on top of each other. None of them, strangely, were open.

     "You didn’t want any?” Nero asked over the noise.

     “Got a hot date later. Didn’t wanna ruin my appetite,” replied Dante, waving a hand over the back of the couch.

     Nero shook his head. “Not another one of those,” he muttered to himself. A part of him felt like his uncle could still hear him though. Dante's hearing was freakishly good. Like _Guinness Book of World Records_ good.

He went through the boxes. Sure enough, each one had a different combination of toppings. He grabbed a paper plate from the stack Dante had set aside and gladly took his fill. Afterward, he joined Dante in the living room.

     “Why the hell’s it so loud?”

     “Got a mouth on you, don’t you?” Dante flicked a hand towards the television. “And can’t you tell? This is a fine piece of entertainment.”

Oh no. With Dante, they could mean anything. Nero squinted at the older man before focusing his attention on the TV. For once, Dante had a on a show that Nero could follow. Onscreen were heavily made up contestants and wild-slash-”avant garde” outfits. They stood shoulder to shoulder before a judge panel. Each contestant were steely eyed, and their commentary sounded as the camera focused on each of them in turn. The centermost judge was dressed even more ostentatiously than the contestants with sharply drawn eyebrows and killer eyeliner. Nero was half-watching, half-trying to figure out the twist in all of this. It all appeared too _normal_ for Dante’s tastes. Maybe a fleshy no-eyed wyrm-beast would explode out of the ground. Nero took a distracted bite of his pizza.

     The center judge lifted their chin. “To find today’s challenge, you must _first_ —”

The camera pulled back dramatically with a sudden swell of music. Each sting made the camera snap to the contestants, focusing on them in groups of three. One last hard cut to the judges, and then the focus went back to what was revealed to be large feasting table covered with a white cloth. Three comically large serving trays were set on top, lids firmly set on top. When the music dropped, the lids lifted up towards the ceiling, pulled up by an unseen force. Each tray was covered in enough desserts to make a single person sick. Nero felt his stomach twist in upset just _looking_ at them. The judges flashed odd smiles, except the center one, who continued:

     “—eat your way through the dessert course!”

     Okay, Nero gave up. He snapped his head to the left. “Dante…” he said suspiciously. The tone of his voice made Dante laugh. “Is this, like, a fetish thing?”

     Dante snorted. “It’s a drag queen competition, kid. Calm down.”

     “... What kind of competition has—” Nero shook his head before biting into his pizza again. “Whatever; I’ll take it.” He eyed Dante suspiciously before staring at the TV again.

He could handle this; he even liked it, even though he hadn’t seen this programme before. Watching the queens descend upon the tables of treats made him feel a little ill, but he preferred this over Dante’s usual fair of entertainment. By the time he was halfway through his pizzas, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He reached for it, and soon, all of his attention went to his various conversations. He was still _very pointedly_ ignoring Vergil’s texts (he sent a new one at some point). Nero figured he would get around to it eventually. Maybe.

He easily shot off some quick texts before pulling up his thread with Nico. She was very adamantly trying to get him to come to her next roller derby competition. Honestly, the idea interested him, but he chose to be a smart ass to give her a hard time. Why make it easy?

     [09:58:22 PM] _we’ll see about that_

     [Nico, 10:02:19 PM] _u better come or else!!  
_     [Nico, 10:02:27 PM] _ur not flaking on me AGAIN…_

     [10:02:38 PM] _hmmmm….  
_     [10:02:46 PM] _fine, fine ill be there ;P_

     [Nico, 10:02:53 PM] _i knew ud see things my way ;)_

Nero chuckled before answering his next set of texts. All this time, he was also having a back and forth chat with Kyrie about life and adjusting to things and her favourite places to visit in the city. After wrapping up a conversation with an acquaintance, he stared moon-eyed at Kyrie’s string of texts.

     [Kyrie, 10:11:01 PM] _sorry, i didn’t mean to ramble so much!!_

     [10:11:12 PM] _u kidding? i love it. thx kyrie  
_     [10:11:17 PM] _4 everything, srsly_

     [Kyrie, 10:11:19 PM] <3

Nero laughed in a breath. He rubbed his left thigh as he sank a little on the couch. Talking with her always felt familiar and comfortable. They could talk about anything, and he didn’t feel silly. (He did at first, but over time, he began to relax around her.) She was still on Fortuna, and he wasn’t sure how long it would be before he saw her again. Maybe they’d see each other at the festival? He’d have to ask about that later. For now, he shot her back a heart in return and set his phone face down on the armrest. He shot Dante a sidelong glance before looking at the TV again.

     “What’s got you all moon-eyed?” Dante asked. He didn’t take his attention away from the TV, and yet he had seen everything.

     Nero felt himself flush; the warmth crept quickly over his neck and ears. “What’re you talkin’ about?” he muttered, words coming out in a rush.

     Dante laughed before letting out a long breath, saying, “Aaaah, to be young and in love.”

     “It’s not…” Nero started. It’s not like that? He couldn’t say that for sure. Part of him being away from the Order was to figure out how he felt about Kyrie. He liked her — a _lot_ — but he feared that it could all be infatuation or a misunderstanding of his own feelings, and he didn’t want to get swept up like that. She had been so good to him, and he wanted to be good to her in return. He rubbed his palm again, this time, trying to scrub away any of his own uncertainty. He scrunched up his nose. “Just shut up.”

Dante laughed again but let it rest. He scooted to the edge of the couch, about to lift up couch, when a commercial came on. Nero raised his brows, staring at the screen.

There was a single spotlight shining down in the darkness. Lines of text began to appear on screen, one fading into the other.

  
_We have the freedom to do what we want_  
_and say what we want._  
_But what about the freedom…_

   
The spotlight began to flicker, and then it went out completely, only leaving the darkness.

 _  
… to_ **_PLAY_ ** _how we want?_

   
The music was a bass-thumping house track that sounded familiar, but it could have just been by conditioning. The light returned, and the empty space was filled. There was a model hanging upside down, kept aloft by intricately tied rope. The camera quickly spun around the suspended model twice, and it slowed down for a couple of seconds. When it picked up speed, there was another model in place in a new position, limbs splayed open in a flying X shape. The third and final time was more of a tease. The camera spun but never slowed.

Instead, the scene transitioned into the interior of a night club. Neon spotlights shone down on a stage as the camera panned over a crowd of tightly dressed (or even barely dressed) patrons. Those near the stage were raptly paying attention to the session unfolding before them. There was a dark skinned volunteer being tied in a chair, milky white rope being tied over their skin. The volunteer had their head thrown back and was laughing.

The scene flickered suddenly before returning to the spotlight models from the beginning. They displayed one by one, changing as they said their lines with the camera situated under them.

 _“Live,”_ said the first, a fiery redhead with an impish smile.

 _“Laugh,”_ said the second, a brunette with heaving breasts who was tied with their back arched.

     The third model tilted their head. Black, wavy hair parted to reveal clever green eyes that seemed to peer right down into Nero’s soul. _“Play.”_ The model smirked; the expression looked downright sinful on those wide lips.

     His voice overlapped with the others as they asked, _“Will you join us?”_

The music crescendoed before dropping suddenly. When it did, the screen went completely black, but soon, white text faded in:

**CTRL/ALT  
          Red Grave’s Premier BDSM Nightclub.**

And there was a phone number as well as social media icons on the bottom left and bottom right sides of the screen respectively. Nero didn’t realise how he was sitting until the end of the commercial. He was at the edge of his seat with his hands clasped tightly between his knees. Those burning green eyes lingered in his mind. Every nerve inside of him burned with the need to grab his phone and check out that club online.

     “You ever been there, Dante?” he asked, hoping that his voice didn’t sound strained.

     Dante sighed heavily. “Eeh, once or twice, but never inside. I’ve heard a lot about what goes down at a place like that.” He smirked and side glanced to the younger male at his side. “Some _crazy_ things. People come out feeling ‘changed.’”

     Nero wanted so badly to know what that meant. “Really?” He finally looked away from the TV to face Dante. There was a new commercial on, but he wasn’t processing it at all. “Never heard of that before. That a good or bad thing?”

     “Good. _Real_ good.”

     Damn his curiosity. Nero pretended not to be affected and feigned nonchalance as he grabbed his empty plate. “How come you never went it?”

     “I was just there to pick people up, let’s say. Got a first hand view of how ‘good’ that place made people feel.” With that, Dante stood up with a groan. Nero stood up after him. He actually decided to just get more pizza. “Thinking about scoping it out?”

     “N— I mean.” Nero rolled his eyes, bobbing his head left and right as he thought. “I’m not sure yet. Still trying to settle in, y’know.”

     “Meh, you settled in enough. Take a load off. Have some fun.”

     Nero crossed the room to the dining table while Dante headed to the front door. “Y’know, you’re a bad influence.”

     Dante spun around and opened out his arms, grinning. “What d’ya mean, I’m a goddamn angel.”

     “In opposite land,” came Nero’s muttered reply before he stuffed a slice of pizza into his mouth.

     Dante laughed, completely unbothered and not even trying to deny it. He spun around fluidly once more and flicked his hand into the air. “Be back later.”

     “Don’t forget your keys. ‘m not letting you in!”

The door closed, and Nero rolled his eyes. He turned around as he took another bite. He flopped onto the couch again. The competition was back on — how fucking long were these episodes — but he wasn’t really paying attention. Nero deposited his plate in his lap as he grabbed his phone. He ignored his messages. Nico had sent him a picture (pft, talk about a roulette of content), and that was enough to stall him in his task. He brought his thumb to the top of his phone, slowly sliding down the notification bar before changing his mind suddenly. Search first then Nico.

A quick search brought up a tonne of results. Under the first one was a scrolling module of social media blurbs. The next result was the website’s main page, and Nero immediately clicked on it. There was an option to turn on music. Of course, he went for it. The track was similar to the one that played during the commercial. He tapped his foot to the beat. He tapped to the navigation. A part of him was hoping to find something about any rope models, but there was nothing like that. Of course; it was a lot to ask for, but a part of him still hoped.

He did, however, find information about the type of entertainment they offered. There were burlesque shows, bondage night, rave night, sense benders (whatever the hell that meant), and also twice a month, they hosted a munch. Again, whatever that meant. He rolled his thumb in a circle above his phone before clicking on the _bondage night_ option. The new page had something of a disclaimer.

_All bondage is for show and entertainment. All of our riggers and Doms are incredibly skilled and vetted. All novices will be overseen by one or more Dom. Sexual experiences will be limited to private play rooms. If you wish for more, please visit our twice a month munch for a good time. ;)_

Nero felt as if that disclaimer was a challenge specifically for him. He swallowed and scrolled down. There was a lot to take in, but the text paired with the images made for a pleasant read. He rubbed his lips together just as he came to the rope bondage section.

 _Kinbaku_ and _Shibari_ were the main highlights, but there were other need to know styles. He licked his lips slowly. Dammit… He didn’t mind reading about this, but it was starting to give rise to his curiosity again. It was a gnawing thing now, a hunger. Nero bookmarked the page before closing out. He sank down further on the couch before deciding to just eat again. He had to get down there. He had all the time in the world; it was just about convincing himself that it’d be a good idea. His eyes darted down to his phone when it vibrated again. He bit the inside of his cheek as he mulled over his options.

Nah, it’d be a _great_ idea. Probably the best one down since he came to Red Grave. Some time this week, he was going to force himself to go down that way. Bet on it.

 

     “Y’sure y’don’t need anything?” Nico asked as they drove down the road.

     “Nah, I’m fine. Just need to get there.”

     There was a beat of silence before Nico swung her head over and asked, “No condoms?”

     “What?” Nero scrunched up his nose, staring at her. _“No.”_

     Another pause. “What about a kiss on the cheek for good luck?” she drawled dramatically.

     He shook his head and leaned back against his seat. “Oh my god, Nico,” he muttered under his breath.

     She raised her voice slightly, leaning towards him, as she said, “Then how about a napkin to wipe that _drool_ off your chin?”

     “I’m not—” In spite of his starting protest, Nero wiped at his face before glaring at Nico. She cackled in delight, slapping her hand on the steering wheel as she did. “Oh, shut up,” he countered, not at all sounding like a fussy teenager.

     She shook her head, waving a hand out of the window as she tapped her cigarette. “C’mon, man. Y’gotta calm down. You’re too excited. Too _green_.”

     He snorted. “Like _you’ve_ ever been in a place like this.”

     She looked over to him coolly and brought her cigarette back to her lips as she said, “You don’t know that.”

Yeah, that was the kicker. He _didn’t_ know. He watched her take a drag and realised he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Nico blew the smoke out in his face. Nero coughed and swept his hand, trying to get rid of the smell. He rolled his window down and stuck his head out.

     Nico continued, “Besides, s’not like you’re gonna get involved anyway.”

     “You don’t know,” Nero shot back.

     “I can tell,” she said wisely. “You’re scared. You’re all…” She motioned at him with the hand holding the cigarette. “... _nervous_! It’s radiatin’ off ya! It’s makin’ me shake.”

     “Yeah? Well, as long as you don’t shake us off the road, you should be fine.”

     “Smart ass.” Nico placed the cigarette between her lips as she made a wide right turn. She honked her horn at a sedan that still insisted on driving forward. She flipped her middle finger at the driver and pulled her cigarette out again. “Hey. Where’s Dante?”

     “Why d’you wanna know?”

     “Jus’ want someone to spend this special moment with,” Nico drawled. “Our baby boy is growing— ow!” Nero swatted her arm with the back of his hand, and she made a motion as if she was going to stub out her cigarette on his hand. He jerked it back just in time. “Ain’t you ever learn? Don’t hit a lady!”

     “Nico, you take more elbows to the face than a mosh pit. If you’re a lady, then I’m a fucking prince.”

     “Smart ass!” Nico repeated with more force this time. She took a drag and blew the smoke out the window. “I’m jus’ surprised I didn’t see him waving you off outside.”

     “He’s probably off getting laid or something.” Nero leaned his elbow in the window as he stared outside. “It’s like living with a frat boy. Surprisingly not as messy.”

     “‘s cuz he’s never home.”

     Nero only snorted. “That wouldn’t stop Dante. He’s a menace.”

Nico glanced over, giving him a look. Nero didn’t bother to elaborate. Instead of filling the silence with idle chatter, she turned up the radio and smoked down her cigarette until it was only a nub. When a woman’s sultry voice filled the airwaves talking about CTRL/ALT, Nero reached over without thinking and turned down the volume. Nico gave him another look, but the volume only went up after the commercial was over.

     “Baby.”

     “Am not,” Nero retorted.

She teased him for it anyway in spite of his protests. Even though they were headed there, he still had to settle things in his own head. He was steeling himself, building himself up, for what lay ahead. Sure, this wasn’t that big a deal to people like Nico or Dante, but he had spent nearly all of his life until now on an island in a quasi-religious setting, and now he was diving into a world that was so extremely different from what he had experienced so far. He curled his fingers against his lips; the other hand tightened against his thigh. He could feel Nico’s gaze on him, but if she had anything to say, she kept it to herself.

     “Alright, babyface.” She slammed on the brakes. Nero kicked a foot on the dashboard to keep himself from flying into the windshield. “We’re here.”

     “Thanks for the ride,” he said as he opened the door. “And the near concussion.”

     “Eh, you lived.” She leaned into the center to look in the rear view mirror. She used her pinky to wipe something off her lips. Nero rounded the front of the van. Before he could cross the street, Nico all but threw herself out the driver side window. “Wait, wait! C’mere!”

     Nero stopped, looked over his shoulder towards the door, and then back at her. “Seriously?”

     “Hurry up! I ain’t got all night.”

He groaned and stomped over to her. She reached out and fixed his hair. She dropped something over his head without warning. Nero plucked at the pendant necklace that now hung around his neck. It pulsated red and emitted this warm light against his chest. After a moment, it dulled and became darker. The colour slowly returned back to normal on its own. It was hypnotic to watch.

     “Where’d you get this?” he asked in awe.

     “Hm?” Nico had turned her head away, and she snapped her focus back to him. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

     He smiled lazily before hooking the thin strings with his thumb. He lifted up the pendant. “ _This_ , Nico.”

     “You sure got a funny way of saying thanks.”

     He laughed. “I love it.”

     “Good.” She shifted in her chair, full lips pouting. “I made it,” she said after a pause, surprisingly bashful.

     “Awww. You do care.”

     She sucked her teeth sharply. There she was, back to normal. “Hush! At least you got yourself a conversation starter.”

     “Yeah. I do.” He let his necklace fall back in place. He watched it for a moment longer before raising his head again. “Thanks.”

     “It’s nothin’. Call me when you’re ready to get outta here.”

     “I will.”

He stepped away from the van and spun around on his left heel. The front door of the club was a solid black with decorative chains. He could hear the music pulsing from within as he approached the bouncer, who was tall, broad, and bored looking. Their arms were crossed over their chest with a clipboard crushed against their muscle. They glanced over to Nero with white-green eyes.

     “Name?”

     “Not on a list,” Nero replied.

     “ID.”

Nero fished into his pockets and pulled out his driver’s license. The bouncer grabbed it. They shifted their hand, so they could bend the upper left corner back with their thumb. Nero watched as the plastic wobbled but didn’t give, uncertain as to what the bouncer was checking for. Satisfied, they held it properly; they handed Nero’s ID back shortly after and reached for their pocket.

     “Hold out your hand.”

Nero grabbed his card but offered his hand as requested. The bouncer pulled out a wide stamp, which they pressed against Nero’s hand. They rocked it from one side to another and then withdrew.

     “Bar’s gonna be on your left when you head in. Go there to get your wristband.”

     “Yesser,” Nico said with a grin. The bouncer pointed their thumb at the door. Nero entered without hesitation.

As soon as he opened the door, the bassy music hit him immediately. He felt it in his chest, and it stole his breath away. The club was darkly decorated, but the bright lights made up for the loss. The foyer and main entrance weren’t as heavily occupied. Nero was able to slink past a few clubgoers and make his way towards the bar. He didn’t say anything. He only offered up the back of his hand as a silent greeting. In doing so, he realised that the stamp was glowing in the UV light. The bartender grinned at him before reaching out for his other hand. They slapped a wristband on Nero before pulling him close.

     “Want a drink?”

     “Maybe later!”

     “First round’s free for new kids, and the second’s on me.”

Wow, damn. Just like that, huh? He hadn’t even been in the club a full minute yet, and he was already being hit on. Maybe it was something they did for every newcomer or prefered patron, but either way. Good to see that people were ‘friendly’ here. Nero grinned in response.

     “I’ll think about it.”

     The bartender nodded before letting him go. “Have a good one!”

Nero gave them an up and down look before heading deeper into the club. It was way, _way_ bigger than he thought it would be. There was a raised platform to his right. Three people were watching two other patrons standing on a pressure pad. Wind blew up from the ground to make their hair and clothes blow wildly. The blonde was holding a drink in her hand while the guy she was with was dancing with his hands over his head. There was music playing over the duo, but Nero couldn’t hear it from where he was. It was being drowned out by the greater music thudding through the club. He stepped away with a smirk on his face and headed further into the club.

After a bit of walking, he stepped into the main room. He remembered this from the commercial. It was rectangular, the longest sides stretching out to his left and right. One stage was at either end of the room. And both were currently occupied. Just like in the commercial, there was a volunteer on the stage to the far right. The volunteer had olive toned skin and was being tied on top of a dais. Petal pink rope was being used in this demonstration. A fiery redhead woman in shiny black leather was tying the rope with a wide as hell smile on her face. She was shouting to the crowd that watched her. Whatever she was saying made the crowd cheer. How did anyone hear anything? He looked over to his left and saw that there was a trio performing onstage. The poles they were doing tricks on slowly changed colour from violet to blue. The ones on the outside pointed their legs towards each other while the center performer did splits. The crowd on that side cheered as well. Nero nodded in appreciation.

He continued walking forward until he found a dance floor. There were so many bodies in various states of dress. People were grinding against each other, making out, or just pulsing to the overpowering beat. Nero felt a hand slide across his chest. Someone touched his necklace as he passed, shouting a compliment about it into his ear to be heard. Nero smiled and mouthed his thanks. He kept going. He wanted to explore before a little longer before he settled somewhere. He kept going until he found a large lounge area that spanned on both sides. He could make out silhouettes of people making out in the shadows of dim light.

He eventually came across a small bar at the very end of the hall. To the left of it were bathrooms and “wet rooms”. (He furrowed his brows at that.) The right corridor was pretty dark, only illuminated by a dark, colourful light. Nero wanted to know what was down there. He looked at the bartender who stared at him. He was wearing glow-in-the-dark contact lenses. His face was unreadable, like stone. Nero dared closer until he was close enough to be heard.

     “What’s down that way?” He jerked his head to the right.

     “Private play rooms,” the bartender said. His voice was like ice; Nero kept himself from shuddering. “If you’re interested, there are two sessions open for public viewing.”

     “Sessions?”

     “Bondage demonstrations,” the bartender said. He lifted his head, upnodding back the way Nero came. “It’s like what’s happening on the right wing stage but among a smaller audience. Makes it easier to be seen and heard.”

     Nero liked the idea of that. (In more than one way, he noticed.) Plus, if other people were watching, he wouldn’t feel like a creep doing it on his own. “Yeah? I just walk in there?”

     The man swept his left hand towards the corridor. “Help yourself.”

And so Nero did. He pulled away without a word and stepped down the right hallway. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He passed dark, open rooms, still peeking into them as if trying to gauge what they might contain. He couldn’t see a damn thing. When he came closer to the first lit room, he realised that there were two lights overhead. The one over him was bright and golden, and the other nearby was a calming dark purple. He leaned into the room with the blood red light in front of it.

The room had mood lighting, dim and intimate. The sensual atmosphere was palpable, even from where Nero was standing. He could see a decent amount of people, sitting and watching the show within. A tall, blond woman stood between the crowd and the volunteer. Nero felt himself grow hot. The volunteer was laid on out their stomach, stretched over a padded bench. Their wrists and ankles were restrained, and their ass was exposed, spanked a blushing pink. The blonde woman stroked her riding crop over the volunteer’s ass. She had another tool in her other hand, but Nero couldn’t make out what it was with the way she was standing. He felt tempted to step in, but he wanted to check the other room first. He pulled himself away from the door before he was seen. He stepped under the dark purple light and looked into the other lit room. His breath caught in his throat.

This room was darker than the previous one with a single spotlight shining down on another volunteer. Nero watched as a man with wavy black hair circled the outermost edge of the spotlight. The man walked with a silver cane, casually tapping it with each lazy step he took. Nero recognised this man immediately. It was that hair, that smile. What he noticed now that he didn’t see in the commercial was that the man had tattoos spreading all over his arms (and torso from what little Nero could see past the trench coat.) Nero’s mind was made up. He stepped into the room, standing in the shadows. There was movement to his right. When Nero looked, he saw a couple scooting along a chaise lounge to make room for him.

     “Thanks,” he whispered.

     “No problem. Cool necklace,” said the person right next to him.

He smirked and quickly looked around. There were people sitting in the shadows like they were — most on the floor, others on whatever furniture was available.

     “That is _not_ funny!” the volunteer squawked in indignation.

The spectators in the room laughed, not seeming to think so. Nero’s attention immediately focused on the show. The volunteer was stripped down to just his tight black underwear. He was being held up sideways by a turquoise rope. His body was pointed to the right and slightly down, legs bent at the knees and arms behind his back. Both, Nero guessed, were also restrained by rope. His hair was an interesting shade of sapphire blue, and Nero could see hints of burgundy on the under layers of the other man’s hair. The model with the cane chuckled as well. His smile was easy, familiar in a way that Nero could easily recognise. Either they were friends or they had been working together for some time. Nero was drawn in by that smile.

     “You’re right, Griffon. My apologies.” The man looked out to the audience. “ _Our_ apologies, right?”

     Most of everyone apologised, but Nero could hear a collective smile in their voices. The one named Griffon rolled his eyes and leaned his head back. “Hey, you. Get over here and adjust this, alright? My arms are falling asleep.”

A dark skinned figure slinked out of the shadows. They had on high waisted liquid leather pants with chunky boots. They were topless save a choker on with chains that fell over the front of their body in a design that imitated a rib cage. _Hot_ , was all Nero could think. He stared at the fingerless leather gloves with silver studs on the knuckles. He liked that design. They reached out to place a hand on Griffon’s shoulder and quickly spun him around so that his back was facing the audience. From here, Nero could affirm that Griffon’s arms and legs were indeed held back, but he could also see the design of a tattoo: wings in a state of decay, exposing the inked bones underneath. It was so fucking cliché; Nero smirked, but he also thought it was fitting.

Another person stepped out of the shadows as well, but they kept their back to everyone else. Together, the two figures worked to adjust Griffon’s restraints. The model turned to face the group. He set his cane in front of his body and delicately folded his hands on top of each other.

     “Communication is key,” he said. His silky voice carried in the shared space. “Though your bunny might not be as coarse or ‘opinionated’ as mine, you both will have to keep the path of communication open. Always. So long as they tell you what hurts and what doesn’t, what’s okay and what isn’t, you can build a valuable relationship.”

     “Coarse? Excuse me.” Griffon scoffed, his playful indignation funnier when he couldn’t be seen. “Here I am offering myself up as a guinea pig, and this is the thanks I get?”

     The model laughed it off, eyes fluttering briefly closed. “He’s being dramatic,” he said to the audience.

More laughter. Nero felt himself smile a little. The two assistants vanished back into the darkness at the edge of the spotlight. The man spun his cane around before strafing left out of the way so Griffon could be seen.

     “Because we’ve been together for a long time, I know Griffon’s limits. He can take being restrained for close to an hour. I try not to go that far, though there have been times in the past where we’ve cut it close. I would recommend you try for small increments.” He lifted his cane, making a sign in the air Nero couldn’t decipher. “Five minutes then ten and slowly build up from there.

     “It may feel like a short time, but never rush your bunny unless you have clearly established their limitations. I know we all rush to have our fun.” He tapped his cane to the ground and cupped his hands over it. The sound was sudden and final in the space. He canted his head to one side. “ _But_ , there’s never a point in rushing. We’ll all have our fun in due time. Questions?”

Nero was locked in place as he listened to the little Q&A session. He stared at the man as he spoke, and each word was a balm for his mind. He relaxed without thinking about it. He felt at ease in this man’s presence. At one point, the man signaled for Griffon to be brought down. Griffon dramatically huffed out his thanks, but he stood at the rigger’s side as his rope marks were showed off. When his back was turned, Nero could see decayed wings better. Griffon spun around when he was done and patted the model on the face. The mysterious man laughed gently and continued answering questions. The couple at Nero’s side soon got up to try their hand. The model nodded and stepped through the audience to watch.

He was headed Nero’s way. Nero tightened up unexpectedly and held his breath. The model met his eyes. Nero managed a shallow nod. It was returned, and the model spun around to face the spotlight. Only then did Nero relax. He glanced back and forth between the spotlight and the man standing near him. The two assistants stepped close to help and properly spot the two novices. The model gave out smooth reminders and corrected form when he needed to. Nero laced his fingers together between his knees and clenched his hands tightly together.

He felt like he was there forever. Not because it was an unenjoyable experience — hell no. The opposite, in fact. It was just that he felt like he was preparing himself for something. He was swinging wildly back and forth between leaving immediately afterward to get a drink and hanging around to chat. …Why the hell would he do that? What the hell was he going to say? One by one, different attendants started to leave. Both arguments dwindled into a meaningless noises as he realised he was running out of time to make a decision. _Fuck it,_ he finally thought. He stood up from the bench. It was him, the model, and the assistants. Griffon was pulling a shirt on over his head as he talked with his companions. Nero carefully approached, feeling dumber by the step. What the hell was he doing.

     “Hey,” he greeted the black haired man, who looked at him, long fingers drumming along the cane.

     “Hello yourself.” His gaze dropped down to Nero’s chest, eyeing the pendant with apparent interest. “A beautiful piece. Where’d you get that from?”

     “Friend made it for me.” The man’s lips parted in amazement, and he nodded slowly. Nero knew he was going to have to high five Nico later and treat her to something special.

     “Very impressive. So, what brought you to tonight’s session?”

     Nero shrugged. “‘m just out exploring the nightlife. I’ve never really been out before, and this place caught my interest.”

     “Aah, well, welcome.”

The man’s smile was… Damn, Nero wasn’t a poet or anything; he couldn’t properly describe how it set his nerves on fire. How it made him _want_ something. He bit the inside of his cheek.

     “How’d you enjoy yourself?”

     “Uh.” The question hit hard before understanding did. Nero shifted his weight. “It was cool. Y’know, I’ve only seen stuff like this in a magazine here and there. Didn’t really know anything about it. It was—”

Thankfully and unfortunately, Nero was cut short when they were joined. Griffon threw an arm around the model’s neck and drew him close. Their cheeks pressed together. Nero caught himself smiling when the black haired model rolled his eyes.

     “Griffon.”

     “Sup, V?” V. Was that his actual name or something they only used in the club? “Done chatting up the new guy?”

     “How do you know I’m new?” Nero countered, cocky and confident as he crossed his arms. That got V’s attention. He arched a dark brow, but Nero kept his attention on Griffon.

Who laughed.

     “Look at you, playing tough. Eeeasy, tiger. You don’t have to puff up here.”

Nero drew in a breath through his nose. There wasn’t anything he could say that wouldn’t label as anything but “green” as Nico put it. Griffon gestured with a hand to Nero’s person.

     “It’s the way you were watching the whole time, like you had never seen anything like this in your life.”

     Nero swallowed, relaxing his arms slightly. “You were looking at me?”

     “Looking at everyone,” Griffon responded. He placed his other hand on his hip. “Got nothing else to do while I’m strung up like a holiday ham. Besides, I’ve never seen bling like that before, kid. How much for it?”

     Before Nero could reply, V crossed an arm over his body and placed it on Griffon’s chest. “Easy, tiger,” he repeated. Nero laughed at that. Perhaps they were friends, which wouldn’t be surprising.

     “Yeah, yeah. Yuk it up, fresh meat.” Griffon looked to V. “You ready to go?”

     V nodded and then looked to Nero. “It was nice meeting you…?”

     “Nero.”

     “Nero,” V repeated. Nero pretended he didn’t like the way his name sounded from the other man’s mouth. “I am V, as you know. This is Griffon.” He looked over his shoulder, and Griffon leaned slightly out of the way. “Shadow. Naito.” He gestured to the other two, still caught up in their own conversation. “...Doing their own thing.”

     Griffon shook his head. “As always. They’re not really talkers.”

     “I’m guessing that’s _your_ department,” Nero quipped. This was easy; this was familiar.

     Griffon grinned, showing off sharp teeth, his eyes — vibrant and golden-orange — sparkled with delight. “Oho. Guess who’s got claws? Alright, kid. Point for you, point for you.”

Nero ignored the ‘kid’ comment. He was pretty used to hearing it from Dante, and from experience, he knew protesting only made it worse.

     “I guess I should get out of your hair,” Nero said, taking a step back.

     “It’s about that time, I’m afraid, but we’ll be around.”

 _We_ , right. They probably traveled as a unit. Looking a V, Nero wasn’t surprised he had his own entourage. It just made him that much more mysterious, that much more appealing. Nero ran his tongue over his teeth before nodding.

     “I’ll see you then. Maybe some other night?”

     Griffon tilted his head against V’s and said in a stage whisper. “Better watch out, V. He’s eyeing you like a prime rib.”

     Nero threw up his hands. “Alright. I’m out!”

     V chuckled; the sound traveled through Nero’s whole body. “Take care, Nero.”

Nero left the room trying for casual, but he thinks his step was a heartbeat faster than he would have liked. He marched towards the bar at the end of the hall but stopped himself. He hated saying bye to people only to bump into them five seconds later. He couldn’t drink here; he needed to go back towards the entrance. He gave a thumbs up to the bartender as he passed. The stone faced man gave a small smile and bowed his head slowly. It was a strangely warm gesture. Nero turned away and headed towards the entrance.

He had to pass through the dance floor, and he was grateful for the urgent, rhythmic press of bodies. He liked the stray, mostly accidental touches, but they weren’t enough to pull his thoughts away from what he experienced. He wasn’t even the one who had been on display, and he felt himself trembling. Was it V? Was it just Nero’s own eagerness? It was hard to tell, but _damn_ , it felt good.

     When he finally came to the entrance bar, he felt good — _great,_ even. He leaned against the bar with a grin. “Two shots of whatever!”

     “Whatever, huh?” The bartender returned his smile. “Having a good time?”

     “Hell yeah!”

     The bartender arched back, their laugh getting lost in the music. They leaned in with a knock. “I got you, man. Sit back.”

Nero hopped up onto one of the stools and spun around to face the crowd. He nodded his head to the beat, biting down on his bottom lip as his mouth stretched into a smile. He could see why people came here. There was so much to see and do, but there was always _something_ for everyone. There was that one thing that they needed, that they had to be a part of. Rope bondage might not have been _that_ for Nero. Maybe not yet, but he wanted to get more of V. And if that was the way he could get it, he’d take it.

The bartender dropped down the shots behind him. Nero turned around to grab one.

     “To one helluva time,” the bartender said, offering up their own glass.

     Nero tapped his glass against it. “Bottom’s up!”

They both knocked back their shots. Nero felt the burning sensation of liquor run through him, but it was nothing compared to the fire already in his veins. They both slammed down the empty glasses. Nero gave a hard shake of his head and reached for the other, taking that down as well. There was a pleasant buzz in his head. He was losing himself a little bit. He hopped up from the stool. Before leaving, he dropped some money on the counter.

“Gotta hit the dance floor,” he said, ready to get lost in the heat and music and lights for a while. Nothing existed outside of the club and his immediate desire for contact. And that’s just how he liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Time flies, doesn't it...?

Nero didn’t go back to the club for a couple of nights. Mainly because after he left, he was so hammered that he slept through most of the next day and was using the day after that to completely recover. Safe to say that he had a great time. He might have gotten ahead of himself with the partying, but he had always been the type of person to throw himself directly into the action. Going to the club had been a great idea. He got to see a rope session in person, talked with an _amazing_ person (two if he wanted to count Griffon), watched some pole dancers, and had the most amazing experience… _dancing_.

_The bass of the club drowned out all thoughts and feelings. There were writhing, hot bodies all around him and the hazy ecstasy of alcohol in his veins. Hands traveled up his arms, and fingers laced with his own as someone pressed against his back. He was surprised, but he didn’t stop moving. There was nothing sexual about this contact. If anything, it was a mutual connection of two— four— countless people, losing themselves to the vices coursing through them. Nero leaned his head back against the stranger’s shoulder and let out an excited whoop._

God, he had good fucking night.

He groaned, lifted his legs straight up into the air, and pointed his toes to stretch his calf legs. His night was great; his sleep was great... Honestly, he was surprised Dante hadn’t kicked open his door by now to make sure he hadn’t died. He dropped his legs, feeling them bounce slightly against the mattress, and stared up at the ceiling. God, he needed to get up. He really didn’t want to, but laying here wasn’t really ideal either—

It was then that his stomach protested loudly, and the rest of his body screamed its various needs. Right, okay. So. Bathroom first, and then he’d take care of everything else. He sat up stiffly with a groan and tilted his head left and right to get rid of any cricks. As the numb pain started to disappear, his phone vibrated loudly from somewhere within his covers. He went fishing for it. At first, he lazily pawed the sheets before actually scratching at fabric to find his phone. He could _feel_ the shape of it, but he couldn’t figure out what layer that little bastard happened to be on. He sucked his teeth and grabbed his covers.

     “Come on already,” he griped as he gave them a flick. 

 _Pomf!_ His cell phone thudded against the wall and dropped to the floor. He threw his head back and groaned. Well… at least he found it. He slid out of bed, not so carefully untangling himself as he crawled to the edge. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and just as he reached the wall, his door flung open. Nero had a second to glance down at himself. Thankfully, he was still wearing pants.

     “Sleeping Beauty awakes. From whose crusty lips came the rousing kiss?” Dante asked with a smirk.

     Nero flicked his head up and sneered at his uncle. “Fuck off, old man,” he snapped, eloquent as ever. He grabbed his phone and stood up. “You got anything to eat that’s not, y’know, the usual?”

     “I’ll have you know I picked up a whole selection of things while you were knocked out.”

     Nero raised a brow. “Did you?”

     “Of course.” Dante’s smile grew as he stepped into the hallway. “Had to prepare for the funeral and all.”

     Instead of sighing, Nero rolled his eyes dramatically and slid his phone into his back pocket. “Seriously. Do we have anything to eat?”

     “Got burgers in the freezer next to a bag of crinkly fries. Knock yourself out.”

     Eh. It was different. He’d take it. Nero reached out for his doorknob. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

     “If I don’t see you by sunset, I’m breaking out the defibrillator.” 

Nero scoffed and started to close the door. Dante was at the top of the stairs when Nero paused suddenly and squinted his eyes. Wait a second. Did Dante actually own…? It was probably a joke, but the scary part about it was that there was no telling with Dante. Nero looked to his uncle’s retreating back and warily closed his bedroom door. Alright, now that that was done, time to get his day started.

After handling the necessities, Nero turned on the shower and undressed as the water warmed up. He had slept for so long that his body was stiff, his mind a bit hazy, but all of that was quickly washed away under the inviting hot spray. The groan he let out this time was one of deep appreciation. He ran his wet fingers through his hair and sighed. Nothing felt as good as this did right now. Nero bit the inside of his cheek and leaned his head back into the spray. Hot water pounded against his tense muscles, loosening them while also helping wipe away what little remained of his post-party hangover. He let the water hit his face for a while, and it woke him up more. Afterward, he pressed his hands against the wall in front of him and bent forward, letting the spray hit him right between the shoulder blades.

“Fuck…” he whispered, fingers twitching against the wall. His phone vibrated again, a bit muffled from where it was in his pants. The shower didn’t muffle the sound entirely, but it was enough that Nero missed it. He straightened up and swept the water away from his face with one hand. He needed to actually clean instead of just sit here and use up all the hot water. Well, it’d serve Dante right for doing it when Nero first got here.

Dick.

By the time his shower was finished, Nero felt like a new man. Fuck some frozen burgers. He’d have to see if Dante was down for hitting up the buffet. As he dried himself off, his phone buzzed once again. Nero paused in his actions and frowned down at his clothes. Someone was really trying to get in touch with him, huh? He fished his phone out of his pants and quickly checked his missed calls.

He just barely missed Nico calling — he was gonna get an earful for that later. One of the notifications moved up to the top of the list. She must have left a message for him. Might as well check it. He exited the bathroom, called his voicemail, and then put his phone on speaker. He left the device on his dresser as he finished toweling off.

 _“You have five new voicemails,”_ the automated voice reported. Nero whipped his head in its direction immediately. _“First new message left today at 10:37 AM.”_

 _“Hey,_ jackass! _‘m tryin’ to make sure you ain’t dead ‘r nothing, but I guess I’m gonna have to come on over! I knew it’d be too much for your pansy ass to handle. I’ll see you later!”_

     Nero snorted as his voicemail rattled off information, _“To replay this message, press seven. To delete, press nine. Or, press pound for more options.”_ He walked over, grabbed his phone, and pressed pound. _“To archive this message, press four. To hear voicemail information, press five. To skip to next message, press six. To return to menu, press star.”_ Six. _“New message.”_

 _“Hey, man. Just callin’ to make sure you’re alright. You looked like shit when I dropped you off, and—”_  

     Nine. _“Message marked for deletion. New message.”_

_“Good morning, Nero. I hope your night went well. I just wanted to let you know that I lost my phone, so if you had texted me, I didn’t get to see it. Just call me back at the house if you need anything. Take care, okay?”_

Hearing Kyrie’s voice made him smile immediately. She was really sweet; he hoped she found her phone by now; he’d have to call her back later. Four.

_“New message.”_

_“Hello, Sir or Madam. We are Five-Ten Banking, a local bank and credit processing company. We’re calling because your bank cannot get in touch with you. It seems there has been unusual activity with your checking and/or savings account with numerous charges made to various adult websites. Call us with your debit or credit card ready at—_ ” Nine. 

_“Message marked for deletion. New message.”_

_“Kid, where’d you go? Figured you might not be home because it’s too quiet.”_ Dante was calling from somewhere loud. Real fucking loud. Did he walk onto a construction yard or something? _“—or eaten by the kids next door.”_ Some kind of machine whining at an annoyingly loud pitch. _“Guess I’ll check your room. If you’re not there, I’m calling—”_ Someone. More loud noise. The rest didn’t matter.

     Nero punched the digital nine hard enough to nearly dent the screen. _“Message marked for deletion.”_ The brief pause was almost as good as the shower. _“New message.”_

 _“Nero.”_ Nero froze, hearing his name come from the speaker. He grit his teeth as Vergil continued speaking. He did, however, put the phone down and make a point to put on his clothes as fast as possible. _“I know I’m the last person you wish to hear from, but I wanted you to know that I was going to be returning to Red Grave at the end of the month. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying, but I’d… I feel that it would be best if…”_ Vergil sighed. Nero pulled a shirt over his head with entirely too much force. _“Well, I’ll be around. If you wish to avoid me, that’s just as well. I’ll be calling Dante shortly to let him know._ ” There was a pause. Vergil didn’t do pauses unless there was something more he had to say. Nero tugged on his pants and fastened them, barely paying attention to what he was doing. _“Good-bye.”_

_“To replay this message, press seven. To—”_

Nero marched over and closed the gap. He snatched up his phone and made his choice before the automated voice could finish talking.

_“Message marked for deletion. You have no more messages. Main menu.”_

Nero immediately hung up and roughly pocketed his phone. He brought his hands up over his face. Great, Vergil was coming into town. This was something he was going to have to deal with eventually. Even if Vergil didn’t stick around this time, he was going to settle down eventually. _Eventually_. Nero sighed against his palms and closed his eyes. Dante probably got the call by now, depending on when the message was left. He hadn’t even bothered to check. Great. Dante might have been weird, but he was at least discreet when need be. If he felt like Nero didn’t need to know this information, then that could be a good thing. Or he was going to wait until the absolute last minute and warn Nero that Vergil was on his way from the airport or something.

No. No… He wouldn’t do that. This was too serious. Dammit, now he was starting to doubt himself.

 _“Fuck,”_ he hissed against his palms. He pulled his hands away and began rubbing his palms. Okay, okay. Cool, cool. He definitely was going to have to deal with this then. “Fuck,” he said again for good measure. He went to clean up his mess in the bathroom, threw his clothes his clothes into the hamper, and then flung open his door, finally exiting his room for the first time in two days. He hopped on the stair railing and slid down. 

     “‘ey, Dante!” he shouted as he went. He could really use a distraction right about now, and a buffet sounded like just the thing he needed.

 

     [Nico, 11:31:33 AM] _and now ur not even home?!  
_     [Nico, 11:31:46 AM] _boi did u die?????_

Nero laughed with a mouth full of food. He nearly choked because of Nico, but it was worth it. Dante looked at him curiously.

     “You alright over there?”

     After finding his calm and swallowing his food, Nero grinned. “Totally got Nico on a hook,” he said. “She’s been trying to figure out what happened to me.”

     “Yeah, her and the whole world. It’s not like you to just pass out like that.”

     “Eh well.” Nero shrugged a shoulder. “I’m a growing boy, right? I needed my rest.”

Dante shook his head and went back to the platter he had in front of him. Nero wiped his hands and punched back a text.

     [11:32:45 AM] _lo, lo. Guess who lived?_

     [Nico, 11:33:00 AM] _u lil s o b!!  
_     [Nico, 11:33:07 AM] _u had me worried!!_

     [11:33:12 AM] _:)_

     [Nico, 11:33:22 AM] _im never taking u to another club in my life!!  
_     [Nico, 11:33:26 AM] _or urs!!  
_     [Nico, 11:33:32 AM] _depends on which of us dies first!!  
_     [Nico, 11:33:43 AM] _and it just might be u you fuck!!_

Nero laughed as he leaned back in his chair. Alright, alright. She seemed legitimately worried about him. Instead of texting, he just decided to call her. She picked up immediately.

Oh yeah. She was totally mad.

_“Talk, lover boy.”_

     “Is that any way to greet your dear, dear friend who was only—”

_“I don’t wanna hear none of that jibber jabber! What happened after I dropped you off?”_

     “Nothing.” Nero shrugged. He stretched a hand to twiddle with the end of his fork. “I just passed out. Guess I partied a bit too hard in there. Made it home though.”

He looked up towards Dante to gauge his reaction, but the older man was more focused on the mountain of pot roast he had in front of him. 

 _“Somehow_ ,” Nico snapped. _“But I’m glad. Just… Dammit, Nero.”_ She sighed. _“Just when I think I got you figured out. Here I am, feeling good about throwing you into the deep end, and then a few hours later, I’m thinkin’ about rallying up a search team.”_

     “Awww.” Nero stopped fiddling and sank down in his seat. He stretched a leg forward under Dante’s chair. “You were really that worried about me?”

 _“I just wanted witnesses for when I throttle you!”_ Nico huffed. Nero could hear the telltale flick of a flame igniting from a lighter.

     “Look. I’m sorry, okay? Really. I’ll even make it up to you.” Nico was suspiciously silent. She blew out smoke instead of saying anything. “They liked the necklace you gave me.”

_“You had better not lost it either.”_

     “I didn’t,” Nero said automatically. “It’s at home.”

Truthfully, he didn’t know where it was. He didn’t wake up with it on, and there was the possibility that it was taken from him at the club. He was pretty shitfaced. He would have felt like an asshole if he lost it like that though, especially so quickly. He made a note to check as soon as they got home.

     “Anyway, I’m out with the old man. I’ll say hello for you.”

 _“Better. I’ll see you around—_ _text me tonight,”_ she said emphatically.

     Nero began pulling his phone away. “Will do.” With that, he hung up and placed his phone face down on the table in front of him. “Nico says hey.”

     “Sounded like she had more to say than just that,” Dante said with a smile in his voice. He was still steadily chewing food on one side of his mouth as he spoke. He had one hand loosely holding onto his glass of water. “Where _did_ you head off to?” he asked curiously after a thoughtful beat. “I figured you found some hottie to shack up with for the night when you didn’t come back. Or. Well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “When I thought you didn’t come back.”

     “Nah.” Nero swiped a hand lazily. “Just went to enjoy the nightlife.”

     “I’ll bet you did.” Dante brought his elbows to the table and placed one hand on top of the other. He had a wicked smile on his face and that familiar twinkle of mischief in his eye. 

Nero eyed him curiously. Okay, he had two options here: he could talk about his first trip to a BDSM club and his growing interest in the scene, namely with figuring out a private session with that Dom he met — V, right? — and literally trying the ropes. Or, of course, he could avoid the topic altogether and avoid any embarrassing stories, advice, and/or teasing that Dante might have to offer. Nero decided to hold onto his pride for a little while. These were his first few hours being properly conscious and alert; he still needed to properly digest what happened at the club. He decided to change the topic, even if it was to something less favourable.

     “Okay. I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”

     “Shoot, kid.”

     Nero shifted his jaw and stared down at his food. With a small squint, he asked, “Did he end up calling you? About coming to Red Grave?” He tucked his tongue against the right side of his mouth and looked up to Dante, who only gave a confused look in response. Nero sighed. “Vergil.”

     “Ah.” Dante sank back in his chair, mirroring Nero’s pose, and tapped his food with the tip of his fork. “When did he call you?”

     A shrug. “I dunno. I just finally checked my messages this morning. Coulda called a while ago for all I know.”

     “Yeah…. Uh. Hm.” Dante pursed his lips together, quiet for a few seconds before saying, “Yeah. He called me. Told me he was going to be earlier than usual.”

     Nero’s curiosity got the better of him. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

     “It’s not like that… Look. I know how you are when it comes to him,” Dante said, “and I wanted to figure out what his plans were before I just walked up like ‘Ey, Nero. You know how you’ve got beef with your old man? Yeah, that sucks, but on a completely unrelated note, guess who’s coming into town soon.’”

Nero grunted, mostly trying not to laugh, and shook his head slightly. Ridiculous as the hypothetical was, he couldn’t argue. Waiting was a smart thing to do, but still… He wasn’t sure how he felt knowing that Vergil was going to be in town soon. Even though he had been here for a little over a year now, he still didn’t feel settled in. He was restless and itching with a constant desire to do something, but he had yet to find a real routine. Hell, the closest he had to it was training with Dante or helping his uncle with some well and truly odd jobs, and now he had this impending visit looming on the horizon. Nero took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out heavily. Great. Wonderful.

     “I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted.

     “Well, you know what _I’m_ gonna say.” Nero stared at him flatly, but Dante forged on anyway. “Just go see him. Talk to him. I’m not saying you two have to get to know each other or get close or that you even have to warm up to him. I’m not expecting you to see him and suddenly start calling him ‘daddy dearest’ or anything like that.” That joke was mostly for him because he smirked when Nero pulled a disgusted face. Dante adjusted in his chair and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on the table. “But seriously. Just… talk. That’s all I’m asking.” He tapped his pinkies gently against the surface. “That’s all I’m willing to ask.”

     “Feels like you want a lot more than that,” Nero muttered, turning his disinterested gaze down to his plate.

     “I mean, maybe,” Dante said. “I’d love nothing more for us to be one nice smiling family, but that ain’t gonna happen, and Vergil’s not really the type to smile. I’m not upset that you’re mad at him still. You and I both know that you’re entitled to feel the way you do. You’re owed that much, and if I’m honest, there’s a part of me that’s plenty pissed when I think about how it all went down.” Dante took in a breath. On the exhale, he said, “ _But_ … I just want him to be able to see the man you grew into.” When Nero started to protest, Dante cut in,

     “I know how it sounds. If this were a few years ago, I wouldn’t even entertain the idea. Maybe I would’ve as a way to get under his skin, to make him face his decisions, but this time around, I’m being a little selfish. Sue me. I just want you two to find some kind of peace. And if the stars align, maybe you’ll even get what you’re feeling off your chest.”

Nero had his jaw tensed the entire time Dante spoke, his lips tightly pressed towards the end. He turned his head and stared off to his right, letting his eyes follow the ugly yet subtle pattern in the carpet. He wasn’t upset at Dante for the suggestion. Though the idea _did_ bother him, he was the one who invited the topic in the first place. He drummed the fingers of one hand against his thigh. 

     After a few long seconds of silence, he asked, “When’s he coming?”

     “Was supposed to be on the 30th; now, he’s coming around the 21st.”

     “Great.” Nero reached both his hands up and ran his fingers through his short hair. He laced his fingers together at the top of his head and stared up at the ceiling. Another stretch of silence, and he said, “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

     “You always say that,” Dante teased half-heartedly, “but I’ll take it.”

Nero dropped his hands into his lap and shrugged dramatically. That was as much as he wanted to say about the subject, and Dante seemed willing to drop it as well. Needing a new distraction, Nero stood up from the table and went to go grab another plate of food from the buffet. Even though he still had food, he was feeling a little indulgent. Thankfully, when he got back, Dante didn’t wheel around and ask where he had been the night before. Instead, they chatted about inane topics while they ate their fill. By the time they left, Nero was full and just a _little_ sleepy. He said as much as he patted his stomach. Dante grabbed him in a headlock.

     “Sounds like you and me need to hit the mats then,” he said, pulling Nero close for a noogie. “Pretty sure you won’t wake up this time if you go right back to sleep.”

Nero reached up, grabbed both of Dante’s wrists, and twisted out of his hold. Dante looked down at their hands before looking Dante with an impressed huff. Nero smirked before letting go and continuing towards the parking lot.

     “Plans for the day?” Dante asked as he followed.

     “Aaah, I dunno. Haven’t really decided yet.”

     “I don’t have work for a few hours,” Dante started. “Wanna go to the studio for real?”

     “You serious? Isn’t there a safety rule like no training one hour after eating or something like that?”

     Dante chuckled. “I’ll be sure to drive nice and slow for you, princess, to help with your digestion. Besides, your quick draw’s still missing the ‘quick.’”

     Nero scrunched his nose up. “Or — and follow me on this one — I’m doing just fine and you have some kind of weird superpower.”

     “Naaaaah. It’s all just practice.”

     “I highly doubt you learned that from your job.” Nero swiveled in front of Dante, leaning in to stare him in the eyes. Dante stopped and allowed him to do so. “If I were a betting man, I’d say you were some kinda demon or somethin’.”

     Dante smiled in a way that was cocky but wholly ambiguous. He reached up to pat Nero’s shoulder as he passed by. Nero watched his uncle before following after. “You’re not denying it, old man!”

     “A pro never reveals his secret, no matter how crazy good the guesses are.”

Nero gave a long hum before laughing and jogging up towards the car. Dante’s vehicle was the embodiment of Dante’s very core. It was old school in every way possible. It was a deep red convertible sports car with a two-door coupe chassis. Manual windows, manual drive, and the damn thing still played cassette tapes. Thankfully, Dante was up enough with the times to have two cassette player adapters. One connected with an aux cable, and the other allowed Bluetooth. Unfortunately, one of them (probably Nero, though he would continuously deny it) lost the Bluetooth adapter.

Dante and Nero slid into the car but kept the doors open to let some of the heat out. Dante cranked up the car, and warm air began blasting through the vents. Nero sneered before turning his head towards the rest of the parking lot. There were some people standing around talking; one person was rolling up their sleeves and poking their bicep. Probably telling a story. Once again, Nero was feeling curious, but he kept his butt in the seat.

     “‘Ey, Dante.”

     “Yo.”

     “Just curious, but… Have you seen a necklace laying around the house somewhere?”

     “Necklace? What kinda necklace?”

     Nero shrugged. “Just a red one. You’d know it if you saw it.”

     “Can’t say I have. Should I keep an eye out for it?” Even without looking, Nero knew Dante was smiling wily from the sound of his voice. “Is it from a secret partner of yours?”

     “Knock it off, joker. It’s from Nico.”

     “Nico, ah? Well, you better find that thing quick if you lost it, or she’s gonna have your head and make a hood ornament out of it.” Dante reached out to close his door once the air coming from the vents had cooled.

     Nero groaned in dismay as he followed suit. “I know.” He reached back to pull his seat belt over his chest. 

When they were ready, Dante pulled out of their parking space carefully. He turned on a dime but with a kind of care that was wildly out of character for him. When they got to the restaurant exit and daintily merged in with traffic, Nero realised what was happening. He slapped Dante in the arm with the back of his hand.

     “Drive normally, dammit.”

Dante laughed and easily switched into second gear, finally to going to a socially acceptable speed.

 

It felt good to be active after a couple of days sleeping. Fuck, Nero still couldn’t believe he did that. Last time he remembered that happening it was after a week long training session the Order had put them through as punishment. He couldn’t even remember what the punishment was for, but the soreness stayed with him like a bad dream. Even though Nero hadn’t packed his workout clothes, he was comfortable enough to lose the shoes and his shirt, leaving his undershirt. Dante left his shoes behind as well as his jacket and shirt, choosing to train topless.

They were using wooden practice swords again. There were a few to train with here, and they were all expertly crafted. None of them were properly balanced, but that was on purpose. And Nero liked the way they felt in his hands. He liked having to figure things out, having to adjust. He wasn’t as good as it as Dante was, but honestly, who was? 

The sword he had this time was top heavy. It felt like paper in his hand, but the upper portion of it was heftier. It was almost like a club, and if he wasn’t careful, his mind would think of it as such. Dante slid one foot back and pressed his thumb against the wooden guard. Nero closed his eyes, let out a steady breath, and prepared himself. He tossed his sword up behind his back with his right hand before catching it with his left and brandishing it. When he opened his eyes, he kicked and closed the gap between himself and Dante, who only smirked. Nero swung his sword, but Dante countered it.

     “How do you keep doing that!” Nero yelled.

     “Told ya, kid.” Dante kicked Nero backwards before twisting his sword around. He curled his left hand and used it as a makeshift sheathe. He ran his sword against his knuckles before slotting it against his palm. “...It’s just practice.”

Nero snorted and rushed again. He wasn’t going to be easily deterred. He saw the twitch of Dante’s arm, and that was as much of a warning as he had to brace himself for the next attack. He brought his left arm up and parried Dante’s blow. He repelled the wooden sword before kneeing Dante in the side. Hard. It was enough to make Dante sidestep at least, but before Nero could place his foot on the ground, Dante swiped at his knee with a horizontal tap. Nero didn’t buckle, but the jab of pain was enough to make him falter backwards. 

     Dante whistled. “Not bad. Guess you’re catching up with this ‘demon’ after all.”

     “‘m gonna learn your secret one way or another,” Nero replied with a tilted smile.

     Another laugh as Dante reset himself. He swiped at his nose. “Who knows. You just might do it.” 

This time, he was the one to rush. His attacks were fast; he chopped Nero above his left shoulder and on his left side before hopping back. Nero swiped and only hit air. He huffed, held his sword with both hands, and rolled his head to crack his neck. No more slacking. He took two careful steps towards Dante, trying to figure out if he should feign an attack or actually go straight for one. The decision was made for him when Dante kicked off and closed the gap. Nero was forced on the defense. He stepped backwards, matching Dante blow for blow. The clack of wood rattled his ears; each parry made his arms shake. His heart was pounding. He lived for this. It didn’t help that Dante got him into this by taking him on one of his jobs. Now, Nero needed an occasional round of swordplay like he needed air. If he could only convince Dante to take him back to the shooting range, then his life would be complete.

Dante slid his right foot to the side, and Nero knew what was coming next. He kicked at Dante’s ankle, forcing his stance wider, and was rewarded with a surprised huff. Nero stepped into Dante’s space, pressed his back to his uncle’s front, and grabbed Dante’s sword. Ducking forward, Nero kicked back, and both feet collided with Dante’s chest. Dante groaned and brought his hands to his chest. Nero rolled forward before smoothly coming to his feet. He had both swords in each hand, and he was grinning like a fool. He spun around and crossed the swords behind his neck.

     “You see that! How you like them apples?” he shouted with a bright grin on his face.

     Dante laughed heartily as he rubbed his chest. Soon after, he clapped his hands slowly. “Gotta give you that one. That was pretty good.”

Nero nodded confidently, swaying left and right before looking forward again. He watched as Dante swiped his nose and switched his stance. Dante was light on his feet as he bounced back and forth. After a few hops, he landed with a thud, shimmied into a wide stance, and moved his hands in front of him like a wave. He drew one hand back while he held the other out, coaxing Nero closer with a playful curl of his fingers.

Oho, this was going to be good. Nero turned the swords downward, letting their tips drag against the training mats as he coolly stalked forward. He was a thousand percent sure he was going to get his ass kicked, but whatever happened next would be total worth it.

 

The best thing about showering was that it helped make the pain go away; the worst part was that it sometimes helped highlight what part of Nero hurt the most. The answer was the same as it had been this morning: all of him. He was pretty sure he was going to have bruises on him for the next few days, if he was lucky. He didn’t walk out of this a complete loser, though. He managed to give as good as he got, and he gave Dante a sweet little shiner on his cheek to sport.

After showering and redressing in something casual, Nero decided to tear apart his room to look for the necklace Nico got for him. He really would feel like an asshole if he lost it. Nico liked making things, and she loved modifying things, but it was rare that she actually _gave_ him stuff that she made. Ten minutes passed, and he didn’t find anything. He turned his sights to the clothes he wore there. He went through them, his entire hamper, and then he clawed through his mattress. Another five minutes: nothing. Okay, now the guilt was starting to settle in.

He cursed to himself as he turned his attention back towards his bed. He carefully went through his side table drawers. Aside from his wild assortment of, ahem, pleasantries and random shit like receipts, an old phone, and some business cards, he wasn’t still wasn’t able to find it. “Where is it, dammit?” he growled. He walked to the foot of his bed, curled his fingers under the box spring, and lifted it and the mattress above his head. Something knocked against the wall before falling to the floor. He heard that. Nero squinted and ducked his head. Was that—

“Oh hell yeah!” he cheered. He lowered down the mattress and box spring at an angle, climbed up onto his bed, and then reached down behind his pillows. When his nails grazed over a thin but satin feeling string, he grabbed it and yanked it up over his head. His laugh was loud and victorious as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the pendant.

Now that it was daytime and that he wasn’t nervous out of his mind, he could actually appreciate it properly. It was a blood red crystal cradled in silver. The top cap was made to look like a claw gripping the crystal in place. It had a hoop from which the satin string hung from it. He stared at the pendant for a few seconds. Even in the light, it pulsated a soft red glow. Looking closely, he could see a bubble shifting around inside of it. He thought of a lava lamp and how he was mesmerised by one as a child when Dante first came to visit him on Fortuna. His gaze softened, less filled with wonder and more distant this time. He felt the oncoming sting of nostalgia swelling in his chest and immediately pushed it down. He didn’t want to think about those days. Nice as it was to have met Dante, it meant that…

He rolled over to his left and went rummaging through his drawers. He was pretty sure he had a spare chain around here somewhere. He could loop it through the pendant’s hoop as well. He wouldn’t get rid of the string that Nico put on the pendant, but at least this way, it was reinforced with something. When he found it, he sat up and began to loop it through the hole. Then, there was a knock at his door.

     “Come in.”

     Dante pushed open the door. “You alright in here? You sound like you hit the lottery.”

     Nero smiled to one side and huffed. “Don’t I wish.”

     “Whatcha got there?”

     “Oh yeah.” Nero hurried to clasp the chain closed. Afterward, he held it up to eye level. “This is the necklace I told you about.”

     Dante made a noise of approval, crossing the room with a hand out. Nero handed the pendant over, letting his uncle investigate it. “Wow, this thing is a beaut. And you said Nico made this?”

     “Sure did.”

     “Wow,” Dante said again. He collected it in the palm of his right hand before depositing it into Nero’s. “You know, me and her grandmother go way back.” Nero scrunched up his nose, and Dante waved a hand, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Not like that,” he insisted. “We were good friends. She used to work with me back in the day before I struck out on my own. I’m sure the old girl woulda followed me if she didn’t have her contract.” He chuckled and cupped his own chin, rubbing his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Nell Goldstein was a helluva woman, y’know. I was pretty sad when she passed.”

     “I bet. ‘m still amazed Nico didn’t put two and two together before you two met.”

     “Never had the pleasure of meeting her before.” Dante grinned now. He placed his hand on his hip. “But it’s always good to be tripped over like I’m a celebrity.”

     “You’re _whatever_ ,” Nero deflected before putting the necklace on. Ah, yes. This felt way better. He grabbed his phone to take a picture but then noticed that Dante was still standing there. “You need somethin’?”

     “Just wondering something.” Dante spun on his heels and waved a hand. “But I’ll check in later.” Crap. Nero squinted at his uncle’s back “Gonna head into work. I’ll catch you in the morning.”

     “Yeah, see ya.” He waited until Dante was halfway downstairs before snapping a photo of his necklace and shooting it off to Nico. 

As he scrolled through his missed text messages, his phone buzzed in his hand, and a notification lowered down into view. Nico was calling. Nero accepted the call and leaned back on his bed.

     “Yello?”

_“Ah! So ya didn’t lose it!”_

     “I told you I didn’t.” Even though he didn’t really believe it himself.

_“Just thought you were full of shit. My bad. So! How’d it go?”_

     “Wasn’t nearly as intense as I thought it was going to be, but I guess I don’t really know what I went in for, y’know. There were _so_ many people there; it was pretty packed. Two bars— two bars! And a couple’a dance floors. People getting tied up and the music was bumping. Overall, a pretty solid twenty out of ten. Would go again.”

 _“When_ are _you going?”_

He hadn’t really thought about it. In truth, he wanted to go back as soon as possible if only to prove to the world that he hadn’t died. That and he was also curious what the club would be like on a different night. He wasn’t really going to go every single night, but after sleeping for two days, he was feeling the itch again to do something. Maybe he could talk with V again—if he’d even be there.

     “I dunno. Tonight? Got nothing else to do really, unless you’re having a game today.”

_“Nah, got pushed to tomorrow. One of our girls got knocked over bad, so we’re getting one of our replacements to fly in while she recovers.”_

     “Bummer. Y’all play rough.”

_“It’s all part of the game, baby. Anyway, if you want a ride, I can pick you up again. Just don’t get sauced off your ass again, y’hear me?”_

     Nero saluted towards the ceiling. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

_“If you want a ride, just lemme know, but other than that, what’re you up to right now? Just bummin’ around?”_

     “I mean, basically.” Nero kicked his legs against the side of his still angled bed. Fuck, he was going to have to clean up still. “Wanna come hang out?”

_“Where’s your unc?”_

     “Work.”

_“Be over in a minute. Oh! I got something I wanna show you anyway. You still got your bummy rollerblades?”_

     “Yeah?” He raised a brow. “They’re in the closet.”

_“Perfect! Be right over.”_

Nico hung up before he could even say goodbye. He dropped his phone to the bed and then sat up. He might as well clean up a little bit before she got there. He fixed his bed, kinda fixed his covers with some semblance of order, and then took his clothes down to wash. By the time he fixed up his drawers, Nico was pounding at the door. Nero took the railing down as usual. When he flung open the door, he saw Nico standing on the other side with her tool bag slung over her right shoulder. She smirked up at him before strutting inside. 

     “Got anything to eat?” she asked.

     “Eeeh, nothing kosher. I could pick something up; I know a place.”

     “Nah, that’s alright. I’ll order something.”

Nero snorted a laugh before following her upstairs. She crossed the room and plopped down on his bed. Nero went to pull his skates out of the closet. She scrunched up her nose as she reached out for them. 

     “These things are raggedy,” she commented.

     “I know that.”

     “And you were really just wheeling around on these?”

     “Hey! They were ‘gently used’, okay? Got ‘em cheap.”

     “It shows,” she added, turning them around and inspecting them. She then set them on the bed, opened her bag, and pulled out a screwdriver. After a stretch of silence, she said, “So?”

     “So?”

     “Did you see anything interesting at the club?”

     “A-ah.” Nero rubbed his ear nervously, looking off to the side. “Yeah…”

     “Like? C’mon! Don’t hold back!”

     “So, y’know, they do bondage and stuff in there, right?”

     “Mhm.”

     “I managed to get into one of those private rooms. Two of them were holding classes, and the one I got into had this guy, right? And he was talking about the model he had wrapped up, and it was so cool to just sit there and watch. The model seemed pretty comfortable for the most part, except towards the end, but they took him down. He was mouthing off the whole time.”

     “Looks like you found your long lost brother, huh, Nero?”

     Nero bucked towards her, but Nico only laughed. “Shut up. Anyway, so a couple got up and tried afterward. I watched them too, and the instructor stood by me while he watched them.”

     “Oh.” Nico lifted her head and put on a ridiculous face. Nero smiled, knowing what was coming next. “Was he hot?”

     “Honestly? Yeah. I mean, this guy is built like a waif, y’know. He looks like a stiff breeze would knock him down, but he has these cool tats, and his voice is so smooth.” And his lips looked pretty soft; his eyes were piercing; the way he walked was— Okay, if Nero didn’t stop thinking about it, his mind was going to run away from him. He shook his head, continuing, “And oh! The model had these awesome molten wing tattoos too. I mean, there’s really a lot to say.”

     “Molten wing tattoos…” Nico lowered the skate she was picking apart and grabbed her phone.

     “Remember something?”

     “Hush,” she countered. “I’m thinking.”

     Nero’s brows shot up, and he raised his hands in mock surrender as he leaned back. “My bad.”

     After a moment, Nico turned her phone back towards him. “This him?”

He grabbed the phone and saw a social media page open. He saw the name “Griffon @ Ambrosia Night!!!” and read a few of the post. The first one read:

          GRIFFON @ AMBROSIA NIGHT!!!       8h  
          pumped 4 tonite’s session!! better get ready 2 pick ur jaws up off the floor!   xx

The post was followed by three photos; the first was a selfie. Griffon was standing against a wall with the camera angled above his head, and he was mostly naked. He covered most of his lower half with a milky white sheet. His gaze was piercing, eyes just as stunning as when Nero first met him. The second image was similar except he had neon violet ropes around his body. He was still naked, but the cover was pushed away from his left leg. V was in the shot, more focused on stringing the rope around Griffon’s thigh than he was being photographed. The third image was of Griffon standing beside Shadow. Both of them had their backs turned. Griffon’s ass was censored by a teary-eyed laughing cat emoji sticker. Shadow, by comparison, was wearing a tight bodysuit. Their body was tied with a golden silk ribbon. The interesting focus of the image was that they had violet rope around their wrist from Griffon while he had golden ribbons around his. He also clutched the extra ribbon in his fingers.

Nero knew he was staring. He quickly memorised Griffon’s handle (@flynfree__) and handed the phone back to Nico. She had been watching him curiously and set the phone back on her thigh.

     “Yeah, that’s him. Just as cocky as when I met him.”

     “Sounds like you made a friend.”

     Nero laughed, more genuinely this time, and shrugged up a shoulder. “I mean, he’s whatever, y’know. I guess it’s good to get to know the people I’m learning from, right?”

     “You’re not wrong.” With that, Nico went back to her task. 

     “And wait a minute.” Nero leaned forward, his smile widening as he wagged a finger at her. “How’d you pull that up so quickly?”

     “I saw his tattoo on my timeline a while back, and I follow the club online.” She twirled her screwdriver around her fingers. “I mean, I haven’t checked my feed in months, but I remembered that at least.”

     Nero huffed and turned his hand, resting his chin in his palm. He watched Nico work for a bit. “You never told me the stuff you get into.”

     “Cuz it’s none of yer business is why.”

     “Aww, c’mon! That’s not fair! You get to drop me in a BDSM club and ask me for details of my trip, but you won’t even give me an _idea_?”

     “Because, sunshine, I knew you wouldn’t get into anything crazy.”

     Nero snorted, insulted. “Oh yeah?”

     Nico pointed her screwdriver at him and emphasized her words. “Too. Green. Plus, you got shitfaced, and that’s about as much as I woulda expected from you.”

     He rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

     “But you want a hint. Here’s one: a girl like me playin’ derby means I ain’t afraid of pain.”

     Nero thought about it a moment before drumming his fingers against his lips. “You have me so curious right now.”

     “Bet you wanna know more, huh?”

     “Honestly, yeah. I—”

     “Too bad! I’m busy!” She looked at the skate again. “Maybe when you take another step we’ll exchange notes.”

     “Rude. And here I was about to offer you some lemonade.”

     “How old is the tree?” she asked without looking up.

     “Fuck, right. I almost forgot. My bad.” He reached for her phone again and pulled up the menu of the restaurant. “Actually, let’s just order something from them. Here’s the menu; just tell me what you want.”

When she took the phone from him, he stood up from his bed and went downstairs to grab something to drink. He took the stairs normally this time. Nico got him thinking, as she was wont to do, especially when she was giving him shit. He genuinely wanted to know what she got into. Not in a perverted way, but he wanted to know where this kind of lifestyle could lead him. He wanted to know some of the more nuanced things, even if he never experienced them. He was just… well, _curious_. From the little taste he got, he was interested in this new world, but he knew that it wouldn’t do him justice to start rubbing his hands all over everything.

He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of lemonade. God, he hoped Dante didn’t put anything in here. He wasn’t really up for getting hammered again so soon. As he poured himself a glass, he thought about the tantilisating violet rope on Griffon’s body and the contrast of gold against Shadow’s dark skin. They both looked _amazing_. And Griffon was naked. Was he going to be naked at the club tonight?

 _Griffon @ Ambrosia Night!!!_ He squinted as that thought came to the forefront of his mind. He slid the pitcher back into the fridge. Ambrosia Night. Maybe it was another club, maybe it was tonight’s theme for CTRL/ALT. He had no idea. Nero took a sip from his glass and slowly headed back upstairs. He had no idea, but if it really was a theme for tonight, then he was more excited than ever to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to any Nico fans. I don't know how to write her, but I'm learning. I didn't want this to go past two chapters, but well. We already know how that goes with me, huh.


End file.
